


my guy pretty like a girl

by thekardemomme



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Femininity, Internalized Homophobia, Introspection, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 16:09:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20195002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekardemomme/pseuds/thekardemomme
Summary: it’s in the middle of a supermarket aisle that the weight of everything hits lucas for the first time.





	my guy pretty like a girl

it’s in the middle of a supermarket aisle that the weight of everything hits lucas for the first time. 

the whole thing makes him feel a bit stupid, because he’s standing in front of a nail polish display with a box of condoms in one hand and eliott’s toothpaste in the other, and he’s having a crisis. he shouldn’t be having this crisis, not now. not six months after he fell in love with a boy, not while he’s currently buying his boyfriend toothpaste and buying them condoms because their last box had run out in less than a month. this should’ve hit him  _ months  _ ago.

he supposed it did, in a way. he didn’t exactly have the easiest time coming out and everything, but  _ still.  _ lucas can’t help but feel like this crisis should’ve come up at the same time that one did. 

but here he is, standing in front of nail polish and slightly hyperventilating. 

there’s bunches of colors, and hundreds of different shades of the  _ same  _ color. he couldn’t just pick red, for example, he’d have to pick a specific  _ shade  _ of red. if he were to pick red. and, really, he can’t figure out why he’s thinking of picking any color at all, but his eyes are really drawn to the yellow one in the corner. it’s bright, a couple of shades brighter than mustard yellow, and reminds lucas of the yellow that filters through his curtains in the mornings. 

he picks up a bottle of black nail polish and then hurries out of the aisle before he can change his mind. 

the cashier gives him weird looks when he checks out. any other day, if he were  _ just  _ buying condoms, lucas would try to make it even more uncomfortable. once, when he and eliott had gone shopping together, an elderly cashier had sneered at them when she rang up the lube and condoms, so they’d gone out of their way to be as touchy and loving as possible. just to rub it in her face. 

but today’s different. if lucas was  _ just  _ buying condoms and toothpaste, would the cashier be looking at him like that? or is he seeing the nail polish and jumping to conclusions, assuming lucas  _ must be _ gay because he paints his nails? the thought of that assumption makes the small, scared, internally homophobic part of himself want to scream that painting his nails doesn’t make him gay, that the nail polish could be for a girlfriend. his logical side yells back that it doesn’t matter, because he  _ is  _ gay, and while the assumption shouldn’t be made it’s also not really that big of a deal right now. lucas shouldn’t be panicking over someone thinking he’s gay when he  _ is,  _ and he’s not closeted anymore. 

closeting is such a weird thing to lucas. like, sure, he’s out, but is he really? this cashier doesn’t know he’s gay, wouldn’t know unless lucas told him. lots of people don’t know. lucas may be out to some people, but he’ll have to come out to new people for the rest of his life, so is he even really out at all?

“sir?” the cashier is saying, and lucas snaps out of his thoughts and blushes bright red. “your total is $33.08, sir.”

lucas pays, and wonders if the cashier thinks he’s weird for buying a 30-pack of condoms. is that a lot? do people normally buy less condoms? the last time he and eliott bought a 12-pack, it didn’t last them a month. is that weird? should they be having sex  _ less _ or something? surely they wouldn’t make 30-packs if people didn’t buy them. 

fuck. why does he care so much what this random cashier thinks of him? the cashier probably doesn’t care at all. 

he practically runs out of the supermarket, and resolutely doesn’t think about the bottle of black nail polish for the entire bus ride home. if he doesn’t think about it, then he doesn’t have to deal with it, and he can pretend that none of this ever happened. the nail polish can sit in his apartment and manon or mika will use it, or something. nobody will ever have to know that lucas was the one who bought it. 

he’s still not sure  _ why  _ he bought it. he’s never felt the desire to do any of the more feminine stuff before. he’s never wanted to put on makeup or nail polish or wear leggings and stuff. for a while, he thought it was because he was just suppressing that side of him, and that he’d be more open to it as he and eliott started dating. but the months had come and gone and multiple opportunities had presented themselves (eliott  _ loved  _ getting makeup done), but lucas had never wanted to. 

so why now?

eliott has talked to him about it before. how, after he realized he liked boys and that it was okay to like boys, he started exploring more of himself. finally doing other things he was afraid to do. things like getting manicures, wearing ‘feminine’ clothing, and getting his makeup done. he’d explained how much he loved doing that sort of thing, and how he felt so much more liberated in knowing that he could do ‘feminine’ stuff without feeling like his masculinity was threatened. he’d grown up, basically. realized that none of this shit actually matters in the long run and that there’s bigger issues in the world than boys in eyeliner. 

lucas isn’t there yet. he’d thought he was, and that ‘feminine’ stuff just wasn’t his thing. but now, he’s panicking over wanting to paint his nails, and he feels more like a child than he has since he moved out at fifteen. 

it’s so stupid, but he’s worried that eliott will look at him differently. which makes no fucking sense, and he  _ knows  _ it makes no fucking sense, and yet he feels flooded with shame and embarrassment at the simple thought of eliott seeing lucas with his nails painted. he’s scared that eliott will think it’s weird, or that it looks weird on lucas specifically. that he won’t like it. that he won’t find lucas attractive anymore. 

like he said, stupid. 

lucas has never told eliott before, but seeing him in makeup is one of the most attractive things that lucas has ever seen. every time eliott comes over with lipstick and eyeshadow on, lucas has a hard time not immediately smudging it all up by kissing the life out of him. lucas isn’t sure if it’s because of how good eliott looks in makeup (because he looks fucking amazing), or if it’s because of how sexy eliott’s confidence is. or both. it’s probably both. 

he’s scared that eliott won’t look at him the same way. not that lucas wants to go full glam—he’s not sure he’s there yet. but even this, even buying this small bottle of black nail polish, is making his stomach twist. 

when lucas gets home, he can hear the tv playing in the living room. he’s relieved to hear it, because he figures it’s mika, and he thinks that a good guru conversation might make him feel a little better. but he doesn’t rush in there immediately. he wants to keep  _ some  _ dignity. so he sets the plastic bag on the kitchen table and then moves to the cupboard to find a snack. 

he’s rummaging through the cupboard when a pair of arms wraps around his middle. lucas is already so on edge that he jumps a mile out of his skin, knocking the person back in the process. 

when he turns, heart pounding in his throat, he finds himself looking at eliott instead of mika. embarrassment rushes through his veins. “shit, sorry,” lucas says, pulling eliott closer to him immediately. “you scared me.”

eliott just laughs, “it’s fine, baby.” 

“when did you get here? have you been waiting long?”

“not long ago,” eliott reassures him. “just, like, fifteen minutes or so. i didn’t realize you’d gone to the store.”

lucas shrugs, “just had to pick up a couple of things. condoms, mostly. my box was empty.” he turns back to the cupboard and grabs a bag of potato chips off of his shelf. “i got you some toothpaste, by the way. so you can keep it here, and then you won’t bitch about mine every time you stay over.”

“it’s not my fault your toothpaste tastes gross.”

“it’s  _ mint toothpaste,”  _ lucas snorts. “you’re the weird one who’s nineteen and brushes his teeth with watermelon flavored toothpaste.”

eliott presses a kiss to the back of his neck and then moves away from him. lucas takes it as his opportunity to move over to the fridge and get something to drink. his whole meltdown has left him with the driest mouth ever. 

he picks up a can of soda at the same moment he hears the plastic bag rustling, and fear strikes him ice cold. eliott is going through the bag, which means he’s going to find the nail polish and he’s going to think it’s weird and he’s going to stare at it funny and he’s going to ask—

“you bought nail polish?”

_ fuck.  _ lucas slowly closes the fridge, abandoning his soda, and then turns to face eliott. he braces himself for the odd, judgmental stare—only to be faced with a completely unfazed eliott. “uh, yeah. i don’t know why, really, i just thought— well, i don’t know, i guess. it was an impulse.”

eliott turns the bottle over in his hand. “black will look really good on you,” he says, like he  _ knows,  _ even without lucas explaining. “i have to say, though, i would’ve guessed that you’d go with yellow the first time you painted your nails.”

“yellow?” lucas murmurs, smiling involuntarily. he thinks of the sunshine yellow varnish that had caught his eye in the store. “why?”

“i don’t know. just seems like a color you’d like.” he puts the bottle down and picks up the condoms, waving them around and winking at lucas. “want to put one of these to good use while the apartment’s empty?”

usually, that’s an offer that lucas can’t refuse. and he does consider taking him up on it, can feel the white-hot spark of arousal go through his stomach at the thought. but ultimately, he decides that he’s feeling too vulnerable right now, and he’d only be thinking of the cashier’s glares the entire time. 

“i’m not in the mood,” lucas sighs. “i’m sorry.”

eliott shrugs, “don’t apologize, baby. that’s okay.” he puts the condoms down and then picks up the nail polish again. “do you want me to paint your nails?”

lucas says, “yes, please,” before he can even finish processing eliott’s question. his fast answer surprises the both of them, but while it makes lucas nearly sick to his stomach, it just makes eliott smile. 

so they sit at the table, facing each other so that their knees knock together. eliott is taking the job seriously, propping one knee up and gently resting lucas’s left hand on it, and he’s leaning down so far that his nose looks like it’s going to brush against one of lucas’s knuckles any second. lucas supposed he’s lucky to have eliott to do this for him, partially because he’d have no idea what in the hell he’s doing, but also because eliott is an  _ artist.  _ his hands are steady and sure, and he only gets polish on lucas’s skin  _ once.  _

“how are you so good at this?” lucas asks quietly. 

eliott doesn’t even look up. “i used to paint lucille’s nails all the time. and my sister’s, and my mom’s. basically, all of the girls in my life really loved my artist hands that could paint their nails without fuck-ups.”

_ girls. all the girls.  _

“do you think…” lucas pauses, swallows hard. “i was wondering if you thought… if you think i’m weak.”

and  _ that _ gets eliott’s attention. he finishes lucas’s left hand and then looks up, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he scans lucas’s expression. lucas feels exposed, so he puts his right hand on eliott’s knee in the hopes that eliott will set to work on it. but eliott doesn’t. he just keeps looking. 

“what do you mean, baby?”

“i don’t know,” lucas says, meekly. “i just feel like i’m so behind everyone else. you, mika, mika’s friends. everyone. i feel like i’m the only boy in the world who could be out and in a long term, committed relationship with a boy and still be this scared of everything. you know? like, makeup and nail polish and stuff. is that stupid? i don’t know. i told mika, once, that i wasn’t that type of person. that just because you and i had a thing didn’t mean i was going to talk about sucking dick or that i was going to… to wear makeup and nail polish and stuff. everybody is so open and strong, and, like,  _ brave.  _ is it weak that i’m not?”

for a long few moments, eliott just blinks at him. even as lucas blushes and tries to change the subject, eliott just  _ stares,  _ like he doesn’t quite know what to say. lucas supposes he understands. when someone comes to you with heavy shit like that, you have to say the right thing. that’s a lot. 

lucas just wishes eliott would figure it out faster, because he’s  _ dying.  _

eventually, eliott moves. he caps the nail polish and twists it closed, and then takes lucas’s right hand and holds it between both of his own. 

“i should’ve realized the nail polish meant something more to you,” eliott begins. lucas feels like this is the beginning of an apology, which is  _ ridiculous,  _ but eliott cuts him off when lucas tries to tell him as much. “no, listen. i know you, lucas. i should’ve known there was something else going on. i’d forgotten that you’re still so young, you know? and i think you’ve forgotten that, too, baby. you’re only seventeen, and you’ve only… i mean, before me, did you ever let yourself think about this? about your sexuality and identity?”

“no.”

“exactly,” eliott says, squeezing lucas’s hand comfortingly. “it’s not weak for you to still have these thoughts, baby. you’re still figuring it all out. you’re comparing yourself to people who’ve been exactly where you are. you still have time to get more comfortable with who you are, and what you like. i mean, when i was seventeen, i never would’ve gotten my makeup done. it was mika who convinced me to try it, actually. i never thought i would like it, but now i love it. and it took me some time to get comfortable with that side of me, and to feel comfortable expressing and embracing it, and that’s okay. there’s no rush for that sort of thing.” he leans over, kisses lucas’s lips just once. “learning who you are and then accepting yourself is a journey, not a task. it’s something you’ll be doing bit by bit, and it’ll take some time, but you’ll get there eventually. and the fact that you’re willing to try these things, even though you’re not sure how you’ll feel about them, or even though they scared you at first? that  _ is  _ bravery, my love.”

lucas feels tears well up in his eyes, and he immediately launches himself at eliott. (he’s careful with his wet nails, of course. he wouldn’t want to mess up eliott’s art.)

“i’m just scared that i still don’t know who i am, when i thought i’d figured it out,” he whispers, clinging tightly to eliott’s shoulders. “i feel like i’m back at square one all over again, panicking over stupid shit like some cashier thinking i’m gay. why am i still scared of that?”

eliott kisses his temple. “because you’re human. and because you grew up in a society that teaches us certain things about who we’re supposed to be.” he smooths a hand across lucas’s back and up into his hair. “the only person you’re supposed to be is  _ you,  _ lucas. whoever you feel like you are. even if it changes, even if you’re scared. just be yourself. you don’t owe anybody anything, especially not a fucking cashier who can’t mind their business.” a pause. “was it that old lady who gave us the weird looks about the condoms and lube? you should’ve called me, we could’ve made out again.”

lucas laughs wetly. leave it to eliott to be able to shine a little light into the dark hole of lucas’s self-loathing psyche. “no, it was some young guy. a little older than us, probably,” he murmurs. eliott hums and says something about how lucas could beat him up, and it makes lucas laugh again. he laughs until he feels like he can sit back from their hug without dying. 

eliott smiles back at him, and thumbs at the corner of his smile. “you look beautiful when you smile.”

“thank you,” lucas whispers. “for that, and for… for everything. i love you.”

“and i love you.” eliott lifts his knee up again, and places lucas’s right hand over the top of it. “want me to finish your nails, darling?”

lucas nods, “yes, please. just be careful not to get it on my skin, or it’ll be a bitch to take off. i didn’t buy any nail polish remover.”

“lucas! you can’t buy nail polish without buying remover, what the fuck?”

“eliott, i was standing in a makeup aisle while holding a 30-pack of condoms and having a masculinity crisis. i wasn’t exactly thinking things through.”

eliott huffs. “well, when i finish this, i don’t want to hear a single goddamn complaint, then.”

“fine,” lucas agrees. “then don’t mess it up.”

“i won’t. like i said before, i practically did this for a living growing up. except that i didn’t get paid for it.” eliott swipes the nail polish over lucas’s thumb, and he’s so concentrated that the edge of his tongue sticks out the side of his mouth. it’s so endearing. lucas wants to suck on it. “do you want to paint my nails after this?”

lucas hums, like he’s thinking. “maybe. if you want. but i was actually thinking we  _ could _ put that 30-pack of condoms to good use, if you’re still interested.”

eliott gawks at him. “with your wet nails? absolutely not!”

“what? i could ride you, then it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“now that’s an offer i can’t refuse,” eliott winks. he moves on to lucas’s other fingers, and focuses on them. “i was right. this color does look sexy on you. we might have to put those condoms to good use after all. damn.”

“not with my wet nails,” lucas teases, to which eliott smacks at his thigh until lucas is literally crying with laughter, and eliott is yelling at him not to wipe his tears because his nails are still wet. 

later, when they’re dry and lucas and eliott are sated in bed, lucas gets a good look at his nails. and he thinks eliott was right: they  _ do  _ look good. and here he is, wearing nail polish while in bed only moments after using those condoms with his  _ boyfriend,  _ and the world is still turning and lucas is still gay. 

he’s not quite ready for makeup yet, but he thinks that, when he goes to buy acetone, he’ll grab the yellow nail polish, too. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @elullemant  
find me on twitter @thekardemomme  
title from chanel by frank ocean


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